


No-Good Do-Nothing Hippie Kids

by Jasper Hawthorne (ChildofWinter)



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Also also Shaggy and Scooby aren't cowards, Alternate Origin Story, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, At least not nearly to the same degree, But also because this is set in a nebulous time period, Daphne is Bi, Fred and Daphne probably are too, Fred and Shaggy are Gay Lads, Getting to Know Each Other, Hippies, I just wanted to write a story about these kids bonding, It's just not as interesting to me as the whole free-love hippie thing, Mostly just ways of speaking and mannerisms, Multi, Murder Mystery, Origin Story (Kinda), Out of Character, Polyamory, Romance, Shaggy is trans, Slow Burn, So is Velma, So just be aware of that I guess, Team Free Love, There's no gimmick here really, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Velma and Shaggy are exes, Velma is trans, but who knows, oh yeah also
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-24 16:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofWinter/pseuds/Jasper%20Hawthorne
Summary: There's been a murder at Coolville's local Amusement Park. Norville Rogers is a feckless layabout -- or so people tend to think -- and he's always had a morbid curiosity about this kind of thing.A story about a murder. A story about some queer kids. A story about love, friendship, family, and healthy relationships. A story told from multiple perspectives.Also a story about how Velma and Daphne deserve each other.Rating might change as things progress.





	1. Shaggy

**Author's Note:**

> Bit messy for a first chapter, but I think it's a good start.

Norville yawns, covering his mouth with hand, the other on Scoob's collar. He's a smart dog, but anyone who thinks they can trust a Great Dane to restrain themselves at the smell of carnival food is a fool, and deserves the mess that that will inevitably cause -- or so Norville thinks.

The late spring night is unexpectedly chilly, and Norville is glad he always has spare blankets in his car. Looking around, he can see some of the lights are still on. In particular, it looks like the lights on the stage near the center of the tiny park are still on, which makes sense -- that's where the news says the body is. So he makes the short way to the semicircle of benches, winding between the tables of the dining area. He passes a table and notices a paper plate resting atop it. Before he can get a second chance to look, Scooby has his front paws on the table and is delightedly licking the plate clean of barbecue sauce and leftover ribs. That's odd -- had someone missed this cleaning up? Had old man Jenkins decided to give himself a reward for a job well done? He's cold, though, and he knows if he doesn't get moving again, he knows he'll lose the courage. So he pulls on Scoob's collar ever so gently and steps forward, knowing his old pal will follow.

As he approaches the back row of seats, he raises his head a little to see if he can get a look at the body -- and notices a person sitting on a bench to his left. He stops moving immediately and Scoob nearly pulls him off his feet as he too sees the stranger and immediately makes to lick their face. He makes a noise that sounds almost like "please" as Norville keeps him back, and the person on the bench turns. It's only when he sees her face that he notices her red hair and, frankly, garish purple outfit. It's Daphne Blake. She speaks first.

"Shaggy? What the hell are you doing here -- with your  _dog?_ " He voice doesn't necessarily carry any haughtiness or scorn. But she still sounds vaguely displeased to be around Norville, and he doesn't like the way she says  _dog._

"If you need to, like, ask why Coolville's most laid back hippie is loitering at a park with tons of cheap, greasy food, you haven't been paying attention, dude." He takes care to keep his tone neutral. "And please don't call me Shaggy."

"No need to be rude, Norville, I was just surprised." She crosses her arms and eyes Scooby warily, and the huge dog sits, his ears going back. 

"... so what  _are_ you doing here?" Daphne asks, looking somewhat guilty.

"I was curious," he replies, looking towards the stage to indicate his meaning. "I guess I just wanted to see what it looks like.

She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "That's a little dark, don't you think?" Norville nods in a distracted way.

"I guess," he admits. "Why are you here, then?"

She pauses for a long moment, looking anywhere but at the stage. Her brow furrows, and she swallows down some emotion.

"I, um." She pauses again, but not as long as before.

"I didn't know about it before I came here." This surprises Norville -- he would have thought that she of all people would have been in the loop about these things.

She continues, "They already moved the body, if that's what you want to see. But it's still a crime scene -- they've got the tape on it and everything. All you'll find is some equipment for the investigation."

"Oh." There's a silence that lasts for a long minute, neither knowing exactly what to do or say next. Then, Scoob whines, and Norville takes it as conformation that he wants to move on.

"Well, I guess we'd better go. Scoob probably wants more dinner." He gives a nervous chuckle.

Daphne stands awkwardly. "Well, I guess I'll see you --"

There's a noise to Norville's left, and the three look. A few dozen feet away, a light shines from around a corner -- it must be old man Jenkins. The two teens look at each other, nod, then scramble to get away. Immediately, Norville and Scooby gain a lead. It doesn't last, though -- they stumble over a bench, allowing the redhead to catch up. She doesn't seem to be running so much as speedwalking -- Norville realizes making a getaway in heels can't be easy on the toes. He and Scoob catch back up in a moment, and the three reach the fence at the corner of the park. The only path left for them is to the right. They round the corner of a carnival game just in time to avoid the light from Jenkins's flashlight to shine where they just were.

"Shit," Daphne swears, much to Norville's surprise. He gives her a questioning look.

"He saw me," she elaborates. "I was a little slow, he saw me before I could hide."

"Zoinks," Norville says, giving a defeated smile. "Guess we're caught.

There's a long pause as the light grows brighter. In the dark, Norville thinks he can see her brow furrow. She gives him an odd look. Conflicted, maybe.

"Go, get out of here," she says.

"What?"

"He didn't see you, he saw me. I'm that nice Blake girl, I can talk him out of it. But you're Coolville's most laid back hippie. They'll get you in Juvie for whatever they can."

"But, like, you can come with. We can get out of here together." He's confused -- what's up with this girl?

"Oh, come on." He can hear old man Jenkins's footsteps. "I'm in heels, and you can almost keep up with that dog -- if I come with, you'll get caught. Just let me talk to him and distract him while you get away, okay?"

Jenkins is seconds from rounding the corner, and Norville sees her point. He nods. At this, Daphne steps out to intercept him. Norville and Scooby take off for the car.


	2. Daphne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne decides to help that Rogers kid. What has gotten into her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably a good time to come out and say I'm not entirely partial to flashbacks. I like to tell stories in order.
> 
> In other news, Daphne is autistic. No sense beating around the bush about it.

* * *

Old man Jenkins's footsteps are getting close -- she has to do something. She doesn't want to -- her thoughts are going too fast, she can't parse what her brain is trying to say. Then, suddenly, there's clarity. She needs to help out. She needs to act... better. Even if she doesn't know what that even means right now.

"Go, get out of here."

"What?"

"He didn't see you, he saw me. I"m that nice Blake girl," she begins to explain. When she says it, she thinks about her dad. She continues, "I can talk him out of it. But you're Coolsville's most laid back hippie. They'll get you in Juvie for whatever they can."

At this, Shaggy -- sorry, Norville -- looks confused. Very genuinely. She remembers that he doesn't know what she's thinking.

"But, like, you can come with." He sounds so genuine and casual, she almost agrees. "We can get out of here together."

Daphne shakes her head. "Oh, come on. I'm in heels and you can almost keep up with that dog. If I come with, you'll get caught. Just let me talk to him and distract him while you get away, okay?"

The old security guard is seconds away from rounding the corner. She points, hoping he can see her give him a forceful look. He takes off, the dog close at his heals. Daphne takes a deep breath, but she doesn't have any more time. If Jenkins comes around the corner, it won't matter if she's trying to do something nice. So she steps out into the light, ready to --

Hold on. That isn't old man Jenkins.

A short, round figure stops dead in their tracks, and as her eyes adjust, Daphne can see a short bob haircut and a lot of orange. The figure speaks in a vaguely familiar voice.

"Daphne Blake? What are you doing here?" The light turns down, out of her eyes, and she recognizes the person in front of her. Velma Dinkley. After a moment of awkward confusion, she realizes she needs to respond.

"Uh." No, that simply won't work.  _Say something coherent,_ she urges herself.

"Um."  _Shit._ She grimaces, forgetting that Velma can see her do it.

"Wait," Velma says, saving her from having to formulate a response. "Are you investigating too?" What? No, she wasn't investigating. Why would she ask that?

"Y-yeah."

Oh no.

Velma smiles in a way Daphne can't quite read. Her shoulders fall, which usually means disappointment, but seems to mean something different here. The other girl makes an "OK" sign with her fingers, which Daphne can see are smudged --  _is that ink?_

"W-would you like to um. Join up? For a while? We could, um..." she trails off, and even Daphne can tell she's nervous about something. "We could look for clues together."

This isn't good, she thinks. She needs to leave -- she doesn't want to investigate a murder. Why does Velma Dinkley want to investigate a murder? Then she realizes she's being quiet again. She needs to say something. She thinks about what could diffuse the situation. Maybe changing the subject. Yeah, that could work. What new subject, then? Clothes. Clothes are always safe.

"Um. Your skirt doesn't match your sweater. They're too close in shade, it clashes." She cringes inwardly. She knows before she finishes speaking that she's made the wrong move. Sure enough, Velma's face falls. Wait, no. It doesn't fall -- it tightens. The brow. Anger? or is that offense?

"So no, then?" Her tone is clear; walk away. Daphne flushes with shame, she can feel it burn up from her stomach to her ears, then down to her cheeks and nose. She needs to apologize, but she's angry at herself. Her mouth moves before she tells it what to say.

"I just meant -- I don't have anything for  _you._ " Fuck. That was entirely wrong.  _I don't have any clues for you,_ she meant.  _I lied about doing whatever it is you're doing because I panicked. I thought you were a cop and I was protecting Norville Rogers for really super personal reasons._ But it's too late. Velma glares at her silently before walking away. She says something to herself as she stalks back down the corridor. Something like "I don't know why I even try." Daphne stands stock still, feeling like her muscles have turned to stone. A hand finds a sleeve of her too-thin jacket and tugs at it uselessly. It suddenly feels too short for her arms, and the sensation makes her skin crawl.

It takes a full five minutes before the panic-induced vertigo begins to fade and she can feel her legs beneath her again. She walks back to the dining area and gathers her paper plate -- cold barbecue ribs was too far, even for a mid-semester breakdown. She folds the plate meticulously before carelessly tossing it into an empty trashcan and walking out of the park. She passes the wall of a building as she leaves and notices some graffiti out of the corner of her eye. She notes tiredly that it looks wet. She imagines she'll be home by the time she needs to get ready for school.


	3. Freddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne looks tired today -- really tired. Fred knows why, but isn't sure how to help. So instead, he does what he knows -- he gives her warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll never convince me Fred is anything but a lovable goofball jock.

Lunchtime is always louder in December -- Fred guesses it's partly because of the cold outside keeping people in, and partly because of the holiday season. He likes the crowds -- they make it so easy to  _feel_ the community. It doesn't bother him that Daphne finds them so scary -- that's what's best for her, and he wouldn't even think of taking that from her. Which is partly why he's so surprised to see her sitting next to Norville Rogers when he enters the library, carrying the usual cheese pizza balanced on one hand. He smiles before she even sees him; he's delighted to see her socializing. He approaches slowly, giving them some time before he interrupts, but he knows his girl will be impatient for her lunch, so he eventually has to come close enough for her to notice. Her face doesn't change, but he can see her eyes grow warm, and he can't help but smile as her eyes dart away.

"Well hey there, Daph," he greets her with a side-hug as she grabs greedily at the pizza. "Do you mind if I ask?"

She nods at this, the combination of pizza and -- he thinks -- seeing him brings a small smile to her face.

"Norville Rogers," he asks in an exaggerated imitation of bristling intimidation, "what ever are you doing talking to my girl Daphne?" He smiles as the lanky boy turns to face him.

"Oh hey, Fred! You ready for the chemistry midterm today?" Fred groans at this.

"I sure hope so. I can only study so much before my brain fries." He pulls up a chair and sits between Daphne and Norville, taking a piece for himself. The three take a moment to eat a little. Fred and Daphne each finish a slice -- Fred his first; Daphne her third. Norville eats from a pile of salad larger than Fred has ever seen.

Before much longer, his curiosity overpowers his hunger, and he has to ask, "Really though. What brings you two together? Need some fashion advice, Shaggy?"

The nickname is old, and he thinks he heard somewhere that Norville didn't like it, but he hopes he doesn't sound mean. The other boy coughs loudly and roughly, and his eyes lock onto his salad. Fred wonders why, but he waits patiently for him to answer. Daphne fills in for the apparently flustered Norville.

"You know how it's uh, the middle of the semester?" Her voice is low, and he knows what she really means.

Fred nods, "Yeah. You find yourselves in the same spot yesterday?"

"More or less," Daphne says vaguely, "though 'yesterday' isn't entirely accurate." Fred looks at her, worried. Did she stay out all night?

Norville pipes up, "We were at, like, the Amusement Park." He chuckles nervously.

Shocked, Fred looks between the two. They look at each other briefly, but not at him.

"Would I be correct in assuming it had something to do with...?" He pauses meaningfully.  _The murder._

"Not for me," Daphne says quickly, "I was just... out for the night." She knows he'll understand, but she doesn't want to explain to Norville.

"I thought it might be interesting to see the crime scene." the other boy admits. "But it freaked me out more than anything, and anyway I never got to actually see it. Kinda got sidetracked."

He and Daphne both giggle, and Fred feels his heart warm -- for some reason, he finds the two of them laughing together adorable.

"So, what? You two just set to flirting and forget the crime scene behind you?"

Daphne gives him a glare. "Hardly. No, we kinda got chased out." Then she pauses. "And uh, that's actually kind of a funny story, Norville."

He gives her a look, and she elaborates, "That um." Her eyes dart around the room casually. "That wasn't old man Jenkins."

Norville keeps looking at her, his confusion becoming more evident. "Like, who was it then?"

It's a long moment before she responds -- is she pausing for dramatic effect?

"Velma Dinkley."

"Wh -- wait, what?" Norville asks. "Like, glasses and turtleneck Velma Dinkley?"

"So far as I know, she's the only one in the school."

Fred interjects, "Not to interrupt this apparent plot twist, but of all people, I don't think you two should be surprised that someone broke into the park on a weeknight."

Daphne nods in concession, grabbing her fifth slice of pizza. Fred can't help but look at Norville, though -- the boy in his overlarge green t-shirt looks... what? Smug? No, that's not it. There's something about the set of his shoulders, the casual nature of his grin, that Fred suddenly finds interesting. It's almost as if there's a confidence underneath his nervous, inconspicuous manner, and for what feels like several minutes he can't seem to look away. then, then Daphne says something and he snaps back to the library. She's looking at Norville, with a look in her eyes Fred doesn't recognize.

"We should go back." Fred is shocked. Go back? Why would she want to do that?

"Wait, Daph," he says. "why?"

Norville nods, looking anxious. "Like, yeah. It felt kinda... I don't know, dark, last night. Why can't we just call it there?"

She shrugs, and Fred realizes that look in her eyes is thrill. "I don't know, it was fun. It was a nice change of pace, and... well, I had a good time."

Fred's worry fades somewhat; this seems to be doing her some good. she looks less stressed, less tired. He has a thought.

"If you're going, I'm coming with," he says, surprising them. "I won't stop you if that's what you want to do, but it isn't exactly safe. I'm coming along to make sure something bad doesn't happen."

There's a long pause, interrupted by the bell signaling lunch's end. They stand and gather their things, but there is a stillness between them; will they go? It's up to Norville, he supposes. Eventually, he answers.

"Let's, like, talk after school, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," Fred says. Daphne nods excitedly.


	4. Velma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Velma is having an odd couple of days, and if this latest thing is any indication, that isn't going to stop any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Velma is my favorite character to watch, but I think Daphne is my favorite to write.

Velma's thoughts are far away from the hallway as she trades items to and from her locker. The events of the night before rattle around her head -- Daphne Blake, the rich fashionista, in the same park where he had died? Was that a clue? It was possible; she had stepped out with her hands up after running from her across half the park. Had she been tampering with the evidence? These questions mixed about as she stepped away from her locker and crashed directly into Norville Rogers.

"Oh, like, sorry, dude," Norville says nervously. He kneels down to help her pick up her dropped things.

"You seem more distracted than usual," he says, "what's on your mind?" She pauses for a long moment as they stand and the crowd passes.

"Uh, yeah, just. Had a weird night." She hopes she can deflect from explaining to him what exactly she was doing last night.

He nods distractedly, "Yeah, me too." There's another long pause, this one considerably more awkward. Norville looks around.

"So what, like, made your night weird?" Velma notices him use that word, "like." He's nervous about something. Thankfully, she can't say the same. She has a carefully prepared lie.

"Well, I was at the amusement park last night. I was doing some independent research."

Norville gives her an odd look. "You broke into the amusement park? that's not like you, dude." She has to agree -- but she prepared for this.

"I know," she nods, "but something about the news seemed off. I wanted to find out for myself." She grips her books a little harder and hopes he doesn't notice the paint on her fingers. Then she remembers something.

"And you'll never guess who I ran into." She fought down a blush.

"Daphne Blake?" This brings Velma's thoughts to an abrupt halt. She looks at him, confused.

"How did you know that?" Now it's his turn to look uncomfortable. He looks around as if looking for eavesdroppers.

"That's a long story. It turns out, uh --"

The clock strikes 1, and Velma realizes she has to get to class. "I'm sorry Shaggy. You can tell me later, okay?"

As she takes a few backwards steps, he nods. "I'll tell you tomorrow, I promise."

"Couldn't you just text me after classes?" The tall boy shakes his head.

"I'm gonna be busy all tonight, sorry. I promise I'll fill you in. Go, get to class."

They both turn and push through the crowd, away from one another.

Velma hears her friend call from behind her, "And don't call me Shaggy!"

* * *

 

Velma sits more heavily than she intends, earning a look from someone two seats over. She realizes again how tired she is. She sluggishly sets about pulling out her laptop and textbook, preparing for the lecture. Her computer is almost booted up when someone sits next to her -- someone wearing a lilac skirt. She grows tense, wondering why in God's name this is happening and hoping the professor will show up soon.

After a long, awkward moment, Daphne coughs. It's very clear that she's trying to get Velma's attention. And after another long moment of consideration, she looks towards the other woman.

"So, um." Oh, well this is going to be just riveting.

Daphne tries to continue. Her face is unreadable. "About last night."

It seems that someone sees fit to punish Velma for doing what she did last night -- and she supposes this is as fit a consequence as any.

"What about it?" She doesn't bother trying to sound polite. It has the desired effect, and Velma immediately regrets it.

"Sorry. I'm kind of tired. What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, um. I --" Daphne cuts herself off, and Velma can see that she's trying to articulate something.

Nearly a full minute passes, during which time the professor enters. Before the redhead can say what's on her mind, the lecture begins and she loses her chance.

* * *

 

The professor is wrapping up their lecture, and Velma is rushing to finish typing up her notes and get out of here. It's bad enough that Daphne Blake insulted her without prompting, but what is this about? It seems uncharacteristically cruel, even for the Blake heiress. She closes her laptop and hurriedly pushes it between notebooks, barely caring about how well it fits.

She isn't fast enough -- Daphne speaks up, "Velma, wait."

She does. She doesn't know why. Well, she does. And she scolds herself. "Yes, Daphne?"

"I." The other girl visibly swallows. "I liked your sweater. Last night. Orange is your color."


End file.
